Rest in Pieces: Stockholm
by DarthPlotBunny'sCarcass
Summary: An Edian-survives AU.
1. Chapter 1

_...which Frankenstein had so expertly woven into the tapestry of her mind, their howls reverberating, now-faceless forms etched behind closed eyelids. And Edian shuddered and screamed._

 _It was one of the most delirious and heady combination of ecstasies he had ever encountered._

 _The extracted left femur still inhabited a far corner of the cell. Frankenstein eyed it wistfully, before turning back to the entertainment at hand._

 _Edian ran her hand over the back of her head, finding several bleeding welts, and an assorted array of cuts and bruises, the swelling above her right eye._

 _She tasted copper in her mouth emanating from where the fresh blow had landed, loosening teeth and causing her gums to bleed and cheek to swell._

 _...lacking an alternate route by which to expel the fluid, it burned tracks through her nasal passages_

 _The strappado ensured that Edian could barely breathe, much less speak, for the waves of indescribable raw agony now lancing up her arms and torso_

 _Frankenstein, for his part, could no longer help himself, hips bucking of their own accord and ground his himself freely/wantonly against the wall._

 _Lips pursed contemplatively, Raizel took full stock of her exquisite agony. He briefly reflected that Frankenstein had been long-overdue for a reward of some kind. He had never been under any delusions about where his servant's inclinations lay, no matter how much self-control and (delusions of?) morality the former possessed._


	2. Chapter 2

Edian had sought no secondary appeal, no amnesty nor insignificant evidence in her own defense, and instead, wordlessly wrote out and signed the confession. The tapping of the pen on parchment was punctuated by the slight creaking of the wood of the bench upon which she sat, accompanied, in turn, by the slight creaking of the wood beneath the tabletop, which was weathered and decrepit, as if in imitation of her own bone-weary and exhausted soul.

A slight frown formed on/marred The Lord's face.

Notably, Edian had requested no amnesty owing to the extenuating circumstance of having been puppeteered by Gradeus. From Edian's perspective the ultimate decision had been her hown fault, and she too full responsibility for such.

The woman was no-doubt wracked by guilt for her crimes against her own master.

Edian briefly fumbled with the ink pot, which left innumerable stains upon her forearms and shirt cuffs.

There was a brief pause in the rhythmic tapping of the pen on parchment, the slightest hint of tremors running through the woman's frame.

And why not have him punish her/her own master punish her, then? Raskreia's thoughts took a delightful turn, it would surely become a more lengthy and protracted affair than they themselves had the time nor resources to perpetuate.

Raizel would see it for what it was-as kind as the noblesse was by nature, he would surely leave the task to his servant, further his pet had been due for a reward for quite some time, for innumerable centuries of faithful service.

She leaned back, steepling her fingers and releasing a sigh. She supposed that Edian had, however unofficially, been one of the Noblesse's followers, and as such

as such, it fell (almost immediately/certainly) under the noblesse's jurisdiction. [she pondered/considered that]The task would then be handed, unsurprisingly, to the man's servant.

There was, of course, no need for the [] to waste his prodigious abilities and life-force over such a simple and uneventful and altogether non-problematic termination.

and heaven-forbid (and she mentally laughed here) that he should sully those nearly-transluscent hands and petal-soft skin with another's blood. No, the task would almost certainly be handed to his servant/the near endlessly creative sadist that he kept by his side. A being so utterly sadistic and depraved, at his core, that he was far more creative and sadistic than even she/could rival even her own perversion, magnified tenfold in her own estimation.

And most appealing of all, it would save paperwork. With that single thought, Lascreia immediately made up her mind.

one hour or one year, it mattered little, and the noblesse could do what/as he liked with her.

she cared not for a hard timeline nor the mechanics of what would bring it about, only that the revoltingrepellant creatureshe was removed from her sight/the battered and veritably neutered/castrated noble in front of her posed little further threat to ld's security, and the other conspirators had already been disposed of.


	3. Chapter 6

When Frankenstein removed her from the rafters, her breathing was heavy and erratic. She barely registered when he untied the ropes, the ongoing agony lancing up her arms and through her shoulders having a nearly disorienting effect.

When the [] were finally wrenched from their [], she saw stars, and began to beg him, against all logic.

* * *

She barely registered it, too, when he mounted her, until the periodic jolts sent bursts of agony lancing through her dislocated shoulders, and " _fire_ " through her veins.

The periodic bursts of agony lancing through the tendons of her dislocated shoulders

Her mouth hung open, slightly agape, too winded for the vocalizations of pain to issue forth.

The periodic (and now increasingly frantic) movement (h w n) sending bursts of _agony_ into her extremeties, the _torsion in the tendons_ of her dislocated shoulders did its work. Frankenstein accidentally flung out a hand, pushing up against her left hind-arm, pushing it upwards. Edian was seeing stars again.


	4. Chapter 3

Edian spewed blood and froth from the vocal hemorrhage.

He glanced at the suspended, beleaguered, unconscious form, in appreciation.

He watched as the blood mingled with the saliva and froth, giving it a reddish-pink color.

Frankenstein frowned slightly. He had not done any damage to the internal organs yet, as far as he was aware.

When Edian awoke she at once coughed several times, panicking and attempting to clear her air passagesbreathe. 


	5. Chapter 4

_"Frankenstein..."_

Edian had, by now beenafflicted with/subjected to every redundant "procedure" he could contrive and still live, to "keep himself in practice".

He ran his thumb along the rings hooding/shadowing her eyes, his tongue tasted sweat and salt water. "Oh, Edian~"

He was responded by/gratified by the response of her labored breathing, wide, terrified eyes, and shuddering/quivering frame


	6. Chapter 5

A/N to self: this was unthinkable.

* * *

Rosaria's dominant side manifested itself. She had done similarly with Edian, who was so overtly

submissive that she could have laughed (out of politeness, however, she did not).

The same woman, the same _traitor_ was now appended/[] attached to the wall of her living room, and (presumably) beginning

to regret the day she had been born. Rosaria was honored that she would be able to see her off to Hell/would be the one to see her off to Hell.

hewn from the manacle around her ankle

Rosaria was terrifying when angry, the ugliest expression marring the otherwise beautiful face. Edian felt moisture flow freely down the side of her face.

Frankenstein's voice interrupted that particular musing/broke the silence, along with a sharply spoken "That's enough!"

She released her tunic, digging long fingernails into her collarbone and raking them across her throat/exposed windpipe.

And reluctantly released her.

Edian took a rattling breath.

[]

Rosaria had succeeded where he had failed. Rosaria had finally broken her will/had thoroughly broken his captive.


	7. Chapter 7

She briefly reflected that the scientist would be absolutely delighted to have a noble subject for his ongoing experiments/experimentation on the noble race, as in his old days. Culminating/Or alternatively, and here her thought processes took a delighted little twist, as puppet for Frankenstein's demented fetishes, which would surely see her insane prior to the actual event of her death.

 _Creative and depraved_ , Raskreia mulled. Perhaps she would find the time to visit the other noble's dwelling, at a later date.

Raskreia would make certain, of course, to secure avenues of information for all knowledge that was gleaned/learned about themselves [on their own existence] through Frankenstein's work, should he choose to use her for that purpose/should she be used for that purpose.

The Noblesse had contracted with an _excellent_ human.

-Edian's POV-

In light of the overwhelming magnitude of the crimes/atrocities she had committed, it had quickly become evident to her that it had been determined that her execution would be a protracted and messy affair (in not so many words), in the true manner afforded to lukedonian/those convicted of treason. What was unusual, however, was that the hothenoblesse would be in charge of such. To be killed in her master's own home! Edian could not even glance towards him without an overwhelming amount of pain and regret and self disgust. It was outright [] that she was being allowed in his presence, let alone in his own house. She would not sully his home simply because those assembled wished to save paperwork! She briefly opened her mouth to protest before a blow to the side of her head sent her spiralling into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness. Treason was among the greatest of all offenses, and ld had never been lght on those who;there was no required timeline, and considerable leeway was granted to punish her in whatever manner they deemed the most appropriate.

Edian watched, simultaneously terrified and filled with remorse, as the Lord's normally beautiful face contorted, ever so briefly, and her lip curled in revulsion. Edian found that she could not meet her eyes. and kept her head bowed, almost in line with/almost touching the floor. She noticed, with a vague and grim/morbid amusement that the highly polished marble floors wicked heat from her forehead, which hovered a full several inches above marble drew the heat away from her body, and even from her forehead which hovered a full inch above it.

In equal silence, e held out her wrists which were promptly bound out in front of her

wthe iron restraints, along with her forearms which were bound together with a length of rope, knotted at either end and nearly dislocating either appendage due to the angle at which her arms were bound

whereupon she/the hideously revolting creature was kneed

A day or a year, it mattered little. She would leave the task/timeline to F's personal whims/whim.


	8. Chapter 8

_IT_ ran in rivulets and dribbled off the ends of her fingers, the razor moved in conjunction with his will. Edian could only remain kneeling, swaying slightly and faint tremors occasionally wracking her frame.

On his orders, she lapped at the blood like a cat. Frankenstein chortled with laughter, nudging ample breasts with his foot, nudging her thighs apart and biting back a moan/nearly moaning audibly.

she moved the razor once more, in a straight line down her torso, watching, dully, as copious crimson littered the floor of the cell, which had now seemed to double as a second office for Frankenstein.

He chopped _it_ up into neat, one-inch cubes and put it in the stew

skinning the forearm/seperating the tendons from the fat and then chopping it away from the forearm. He wiped the sweatprespiration that beaded his brow. He was left with six filets/strips. He further diced each of these into semi-circular, half-inch think sausage minceforthesausage.

His master never inquired as to the source of the meat. It was just as well. He later commended him and commented that it was delicious.

the edge of her sleeve brushed against the corner of the table. judging by its movement, it appeared that f had amputated her arm.

The recent-amputee opened her mouth to speak, and then wisely shut it, pushing the tea-cart back towards the kitchen.

"My apologies, master, I will bind her mouth next time"

"Tell me, Frankenstein, is this a game?"

Amid the drug addled haze and delirium, he supposedsurmised that her spread-eagled postureposition against the wall bore a passing resemblance to some manner of antics with a former lover.

"Oh no, Edian, this is not a game. this is t. I've never been overly fond of games."

"..."

"I much prefer the real thing. Games seem to me, to be a weakling's alternative to the real deal. I, for one, am willing to _shoulder the burden of sin_ "

The monolgue was interrupted by a faint rasping and gurgling at the back of her throat, before she spewed blood onto the weathered stone.

She was dislodged from the wall with a cry /He dislodged her from the wall. There was a brief, ear-splitting cry of pain.

He ran his finger along the smooth skin left in the absence of her teeth. It had healed up nicely and provided him with a nearly endless source of pleasure.

She shuffled over to the armchair, bringing trembling/shaking/gnarled fingers to work on his zipper.

he nudged a delightful, ample breast with the handle of his knife, before flipping it over and trailing the edge of the blade over her torso and taut abdomen.

He trailed a finger along the bruises, eliciting a shudder. He set aside the branding iron.

 _It_ left a shiny pink mark/strip, nearly burnt to the subcutaneous tissue, about six inches long and wide, on the tender skin of her abdomen. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she sucked in her belly, staring, through half-blind eyes at the ceiling as the condensation caught her forehead. Yellow pus began to ooze from various points surrounding the raw, shiny and glistening, pink flesh.

The ongoing terror, hopelessness and certainty of her demise, unfathomable levels of guilt, and even more unfathomable amounts of regret (and shock at her own treasonous actions) gnawed at her sanity the way a tiger might gnaw at a bone.

great view goes here + mutilated genitalia

Edian's eyes widened in terror as light was visible through the [] in the cell. Rosaria's second visit was not altogether unsurprising.

[ kissed the sweaty crown of her head in a mock gesture of affection. The emaciated figure in front of her made the most _amusing_ , alongside the strangest, wailing, keening noises she had ever heard. She was still, no-doubt, reeling in the aftermath of [] [].

Edian bowed her head, guilt quickly overwhelming her. "Mistress...Mistress _please_..."

 _Shut up, bitch._

The razor embedded itself in her septum. Edian's eyes widened in shock and thereafter in [].

Her hips slid against hers, eliciting a mewl and a shudder as Rosaria tossed her head back. Her[] was quickly engulfed by a warm, musty, heat.

"I am only your prisoner, after all" her eyes met/briefly locked with hers, inviting disagreement, before riveting her gaze to the []

E pressed her lips into a thin line. The moisture mixed with the bood and made it appear to be . "you can bind my eyes, R. I am only your pr, after all"

Increasingly, Rosaria found that she needed to remind herself of that fact.

[] had always bee [], but had found no opportunity to []. It was regrettable that such an opportunity occurred at a time such as the one she

E felt like she was suffocating when []'s was pressed up against her face. She wondered if the action was deliberate. A razor to her left earlobe indicated that R had no intention to be kind. She was still reeling in the aftermath of L death, of which she had been a participant.

Her hips slid against her own, eliciting a mewl and a shudder.


	9. Chapter 9

He sat back and continued to watch her reactions.

Edian clawed the wall, fingers searching frantically/desperately for indentations in the weathered stone, which was becoming increasingly slicked with moisture from the rainstorm outside.

He chortled with laughter when she "slipped", repeatedly, against the wall.

He heated the second poker until it glowed white-hot.

He was, of course careful to avoid the internal organs. Edian's ear-splitting scream spoke volumes of her agony. It quickly sent him into the throes of pleasure.

* * *

Rayga's son had been like his own child. He suddenly felt too old. He had always regretted not being there for Rayga's sons.

She kept her gaze riveted to the wall in front of her, her head bowed slightly and eyes riveted on the carpet on the far side of the room.

Even if they hadn't been entirely deliberate, her crimes were atrocious.

He suddenly felt too old.

The next stroke had considerably more force behind it, and landed close to her right eye. She flinched.


	10. Chapter 10

She briefly reflected that the scientist would be absolutely delighted to have a noble subject for his ongoing experiments/experimentation on the noble race, as in his old days. Culminating/Or alternatively, and here her thought processes took a delighted little twist, as puppet for Frankenstein's demented fetishes, which would surely see her insane prior to the actual event of her death.

 _Creative and depraved_ , Raskreia mulled. Perhaps she would find the time to visit the other noble's dwelling, at a later date.

Raskreia would make certain, of course, to secure avenues of information for all knowledge that was gleaned/learned about themselves [on their own existence] through Frankenstein's work, should he choose to use her for that purpose/should she be used for that purpose.

The Noblesse had contracted with an _excellent_ human.

-Edian's POV-

In light of the overwhelming magnitude of the crimes/atrocities she had committed, it had quickly become evident to her that it had been determined that her execution would be a protracted and messy affair (in not so many words), in the true manner afforded to lukedonian/those convicted of treason. What was unusual, however, was that the hothenoblesse would be in charge of such. To be killed in her master's own home! Edian could not even glance towards him without an overwhelming amount of pain and regret and self disgust. It was outright [] that she was being allowed in his presence, let alone in his own house. She would not sully his home simply because those assembled wished to save paperwork! She briefly opened her mouth to protest before a blow to the side of her head sent her spiralling into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness. Treason was among the greatest of all offenses, and ld had never been lght on those who;there was no required timeline, and considerable leeway was granted to punish her in whatever manner they deemed the most appropriate.

Edian watched, simultaneously terrified and filled with remorse, as the Lord's normally beautiful face contorted, ever so briefly, and her lip curled in revulsion. Edian found that she could not meet her eyes. and kept her head bowed, almost in line with/almost touching the floor. She noticed, with a vague and grim/morbid amusement that the highly polished marble floors wicked heat from her forehead, which hovered a full several inches above marble drew the heat away from her body, and even from her forehead which hovered a full inch above it.

In equal silence, e held out her wrists which were promptly bound out in front of her

wthe iron restraints, along with her forearms which were bound together with a length of rope, knotted at either end and nearly dislocating either appendage due to the angle at which her arms were bound

whereupon she/the hideously revolting creature was kneed

A day or a year, it mattered little. She would leave the task/timeline to F's personal whims/whim.


	11. Chapter 11

"You have a girlfriend, Frankenstein?"

He would indulge the question.

"Yes."

"I-I see."

She would be disposed of shortly in any case, she supposed. Far sooner than it would ever be of any concern to whomever had taken his fancy. She decided not to think on it too much.


	12. Chapter 12

Frankenstein was a/generally considered himself a gentleman, and rewards of this nature did not often come his way. Not at all, in fact, if he were to refer to the full extent of his desires/if the term was being used to describe the culmination of his desires. His previous conquest had, rather regrettably, left with her life and limbs intact, courtesy of his merciful nature, which was so often starkly in opposition to his desire. Fortunately, there was no real necessity for mercy in the current situation, aside from protracting his pleasure.

He would begin with a few days of regular use (it had been quite some time since he was last with a woman), until he determined, carefully, which set of [] contrivances and punishment he would employ/ what manner of [] would be appropriate. Rewards of this nature did not often come his way, and he would not waste the opportunity/want to waste the opportunity or perpetrate an accident which would culminate his game/terminate his game so soon after its inception. his fun/joy along with it.

...Which was perfectly fine.

He fastened the blindfold behind her ears (the _loathsome_ creature had no right to look at him). He even took the opportunity to employ clamps for his visual pleasure and convenience, after all, she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and remained bound where she was, occasionally crying/weeping due to the/for the unrelenting strain on her limbs/extremities. It was just as well, he supposed. He sat back/and took the opportunity to admire his handiwork.

Five hours later, Edian soon learned that being bound to the wall, was, in and of itself, a form of agony.

His hand drifted to his trousers, moving to the near-musical littany/crescendo of her softly mumbled vocalizations. his hand hovered over the fohp. lightly strkg the frt over the fabric of his trousers/pants./div


	13. Chapter 13

Union agents had grit.

There were not many who could sustain a 48-hour Lukedonian-style interrogation and surface from it with their sanity and other faculties relatively-intact. It was impressive.

He eyed the suspended figure from the corner of his eye, perceiving no sign or vague intimation of either revulsion, or, dare he think it, enjoyment. Or any kind of emotion, really.

Thus, if Edian had enjoyed the show, she showed no signs of it. He continued to thrust into the prone form long after the light had left its eyes, blood collecting in the gaps in the weathered stone.

Keloids formed along the dark, coppery toned skin-it appeared the corpse had enough blood remaining to lend itself to keloid formation. He raked fingernails against the skin in appreciation. It had been previously smooth, creamy, and flawless until he had added lines to its thighs, a sight both blissful and utterly exquisite.

He sighed. Work was work, no matter how much he loved his job at the moment.

After a brief vivisection and removal of the corpse's bloodstone,

He later supplied the union bitch's corpse to Edian's cell.


	14. Chapter 14

Urokai's eyebrows rose in surprise and recognition "Edian."

"Urokai" she responded in kind, levying him with a pitying gaze as opposed to a judgmental one. To her mind, the poor boy had already been "judged" enough for his crimes.

Raizel possessed an almost womanly perfection of form and aesthetics. Edian reflected that it had been the unfortunate fate of any who were to be similarly affected by Raizel's unwitting charms. Among them all, only Frankenstein had been deemed worthy of being in the man's company, and as for the rest, the rest,...

Urokai deliberately kept his face a passive, expressionless mask, determined not to allow Frankenstein the satisfaction of seeing him break as he approached with the instrument of lethality

 _Fate was created five minutes ago by the devil._

 _...Nay-by Urokai himself, who had never even once been worthy of the other man's affection._

A self-fulfilling prophecy.

Edian attempted to quell wave upon wave of nausea, as she eyed the corpse, its neck still sandwiched in the garrote.


End file.
